Lexington was troubled. She clicked her tongue; a bitter taste lingered in her mouth.
With a sigh, she looked up—and there he was. Her Commander.
The guy was lying on Yat Sen's lap, getting a massage, looking so blissfully relaxed it was like he'd forgotten the world. He looked radiant, practically glowing with contentment. Yat Sen gazed at him with overflowing affection in her eyes.
Meanwhile, California was sprawled beside him on a cloud bed, one arm awkwardly slung around his neck like a buddy hanging out, chattering away.
Lexington's smile gradually disappeared.
It was one thing for the Commander to be flirtatious… but these two? They weren't just competitors. They were wolves. Eyeing her prey.
If she wasn't careful, they might just steal all his affection away.
At a time like this… should she really risk bringing Sara over too?
Would Sara become her ally—or just another hungry wolf trying to devour a piece of the Commander's heart?
Shipgirls couldn't resist the temptation of vying for the Commander's affection!
Lexington patted her own cheeks.
No matter what, the first one she needed to deal with… was California.
That girl… it's time to set some rules!
Far offshore, hundreds of nautical miles beneath the waves—
Two Abyssal submarines with white hair and golden eyes were watching from the depths.
Even though Tirpitz and Missouri had exchanged only a single blow earlier, the shockwave it caused was enormous.
Every Abyssal shipgirl of any strength in the surrounding waters had sensed it.
The two deep-sea submarines communicated in frequencies no human could understand.
"Should we move closer?"
"No. We'll be exposed."
"Just a little. We're underwater—they won't detect us."
"No. That's suicide."
Just as they debated, a strange sensation shot down their spines.
It was as if the sea had suddenly turned electric—energy crawling up their backs like a living current.
That feeling...
The presence of a flagship descending!
Both submarines turned abruptly and began swimming toward the source of the signal.
And they weren't alone.
Every Abyssal shipgirl within a thousand nautical miles received the same signal. All of them began to converge on the epicenter of the pulse.
From the sky, the sight would've been even more terrifying than a school of sardines swirling in the current.
Countless white wakes streaked across the ocean—each one representing an Abyssal vessel. From above, they might look like barely visible threads.
But what if there were millions?
At the center of it all—
A white-haired, horned Abyssal shipgirl with violet eyes raised her right hand.
She clenched her fist three times, then lowered it.
Flicking her hair aside, she turned and dropped to one knee.
"The summoning signal has been broadcast. We estimate a battle-ready force of 1.2 million can be assembled."
"Battle-ready" meant excluding those with poor training or those who had just been born from the Black Sea. Only veterans were being summoned.
This violet-eyed shipgirl was unmistakable—she was the Abyssal flagship known as Yamato, nicknamed the "Workhorse" for appearing more frequently than any other flagship.
She was infamous for her cruelty and arrogance.
And yet now she was kneeling before the red-haired girl in front of her.
Among Abyssal flagships, there was rarely any hierarchy. No matter how vast the difference in strength, they were considered equals. Only they were regarded as "people"—ordinary Abyssals were merely "beasts."
So—who could make Yamato kneel?
Surprisingly, the red-haired girl before her didn't resemble an Abyssal at all.
Unlike the usual Abyssals—who exuded resentment and sported grotesque features like glowing red eyes, horns, or ghost-pale skin—this girl's complexion was rosy and full of life. Her face was expressionless, like a still pond, but there was none of the violent aura Yamato radiated.
She looked… human.
The tall redhead stepped to Yamato's side and looked southward.
Toward Hikaru's base.
"What's the status in the north?" she asked.
Yamato bowed her head in a dignified manner.
"That group has caused quite a disturbance on their way south. The northern flagships need at least 72 hours to regroup."
"Then three days it is," said the red-haired girl, waving a hand. "Don't give me that '72 hours' nonsense like a corporate lackey. I know stalling tactics when I hear them."
"Y-yes! I was wrong!"
Yamato shuddered. Only now was her deep fear fully revealed—she was terrified of this red-haired girl.
If Hikaru were present, he would've been stunned.
Abyssal flagships were avatars of negativity—the physical embodiment of resentment. They were the ones others feared. Not the other way around.
In all human research, Abyssal flagships had been described as unfeeling monsters—mad with power, incapable of fear.
Especially Yamato, the most fanatical of them all.
For her to be this afraid… this girl must be exerting a fundamental dominance over her.
[End of Chapter]
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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